“Watch carefully, I’m only doing this once.” Edward Carter ignored the murderous glares from the burly men, took a small hammer, and carefully broke the large chunk of rock salt into small pieces, about ten jin in total. He called over David Bolton, poured the salt chunks into the millstone’s opening, and David Bolton began to turn the mill by hand. Brown mineral powder slowly spilled from the edge of the millstone. Edward Carter collected the powder into a wooden bucket, added water, and stirred it with a wooden stick, letting the salt fully dissolve. Once the solution was saturated, he poured it into another wooden bucket lined with two layers of burlap. Soon, the burlap was covered with gray-black mineral residue. After removing the burlap, the solution in the bucket had turned brown, lighter in color, but still full of impurities. He then covered another wooden bucket with four layers of burlap and filtered it again, leaving behind a light red solution.

Edward Carter saw that the impurities had been filtered out and it was time for detoxification. He took a large funnel and instructed David Bolton to crush some charcoal. Before David Bolton could act, Captain Brooks had already smashed the charcoal to pieces, probably emboldened by the changes in the solution. Edward Carter wrapped the charcoal pieces in four layers of burlap, stuffed them tightly into the funnel, and fixed the funnel onto a stand. He poured the solution into the funnel, and before long, a pale blue solution slowly trickled out. He scooped some up to taste—good, only salty, no bitterness. Although some salt was lost in the process, the resulting salt was guaranteed to be edible. Edward Carter set up a firewood stove, poured the solution into the pot, and began to boil it. Only then did he stand up, his back aching. Was making salt ever easy?

“Will it work?” Captain Brooks asked in a trembling voice, watching the solution bubble and boil in the pot.

Edward Carter knew all too well how terrifyingly profitable salt was in the Tang Dynasty. As the ancients said, “A man’s wealth is his crime.” If this method wasn’t shared, it could bring disaster. One shouldn’t be too greedy. Now, there was nothing to worry about—at worst, there would be a reward. Captain Brooks had probably forgotten about the beating he was supposed to get.

“Will it work? Can you drop the ‘will’? The salt boiled out is even better than what I used to eat, not a bit inferior to refined salt.”

Captain Brooks shuddered. Refined salt wasn’t for eating—it was used daily with willow twigs to freshen the mouth, costing at least five hundred wen per jin. Even as a wealthy family, only a few masters could afford to use refined salt.

The water in the pot gradually evaporated, leaving a thick, bluish crust at the bottom. Removing the firewood, Edward Carter broke off a piece and tossed it into his mouth. “Mmm, not bad. Now this is salt. Uncle Bolton, throw your stuff into the river.”

Before David Bolton could taste it, Captain Brooks had already broken off a piece the size of a fingernail and stuffed it into his mouth. Even though the saltiness made his face twitch, he couldn’t bear to spit it out, nor did he fear turning into a bat. The other soldiers, seeing the method worked, swarmed toward the salt wall. Those without hammers hacked at it with knives, with David Bolton being the most frenzied of all.

Captain wanted to speak to Edward Carter, but saw Edward Carter eyeing him sideways and thought to himself: This kid is really stingy. But then, all capable people are like this. I was indeed reckless earlier. Thinking this, he clasped his fists and said, “Young master, your talent is admirable. Charles Brooks is deeply impressed. Earlier, I failed to recognize your worth and was rude. Please forgive me. As for the wager, I, Old Brooks, will pay up right now. David Bolton, get over here!” With that, he took off his armor and helmet.

Only then did Edward Carter realize this guy was just sixteen or seventeen. As a military man, he trained his body daily and was robust, but his face still showed youthful naivety.

David Bolton shuffled over reluctantly, making Edward Carter angry enough to push him next to Charles Brooks.

“Beat him!”

Charles Brooks stood tall and straight, feet firmly planted, exuding the air of a master. David Bolton circled around Charles Brooks timidly, sometimes throwing a punch, sometimes a palm, sometimes a powerful eagle claw—but he never actually landed a blow.

Charles Brooks seemed to be getting impatient. “Are you going to hit me or not? If you don’t, I’ll beat you up myself.”

David Bolton’s legs gave out and he knelt down again, sobbing, “Please, just beat me up again. I really don’t have the guts to hit you.”

Hearing this, Edward Carter felt his blood boil, wishing he could bury this guy with a shovel. Forget it—thousands of years of ingrained social hierarchy couldn’t be overcome so easily.

Charles Brooks walked over to Edward Carter and said to David Bolton, “You’re the one not making a move, not me reneging on the bet. Just making that clear so my reputation isn’t tarnished.”

“Brother, how did you know this method?”

“My mentor taught me.”

“A true master! Please, brother, introduce me. I’ll send someone back to Lanzhou with lavish gifts and ask my father to pay a visit!”

“Are you sure you want to meet my teacher?”

“How could I not visit such a great man? I’d regret it for three lifetimes!”

“If you just take a knife to your own throat, you’ll probably meet my teacher very soon.”

“What do you mean, brother?”

“I mean my teacher has already passed away. If you insist on meeting him, that’s the only way.”

“Ah, Heaven is unkind! Such a talent gone too soon—truly a great loss for the world.”

This rascal, full of words of regret, his face wrinkled like a bun, but the excitement in his eyes completely betrayed him. Edward Carter decided to focus on the salt and ignore this two-faced scoundrel.

The salt was shoveled out of the pot, about two or three jin in total—much more efficient than boiling seawater. Sixteen jin of ore yielded three jin of salt, not bad at all. Charles Brooks weighed it in his hand. “Three jin, good! This whole salt mine could yield millions of jin of salt. Haha! My army will never lack salt again. Mr. Carter, please accept a bow from Charles Brooks.”